


Talk Sense to Me

by longmire



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10150442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longmire/pseuds/longmire
Summary: Carmilla moves into a new building in a new town and enrols in a new university to finish her Masters with some peace and quiet. Laura is living with her girlfriend in the apartment next door, trying to keep a failing relationship together. This isn't the fast lane - this is oncoming traffic in the dark with no headlights. Things are going to get messy and both of them know it.It's not what either of them expect, but then again nothing ever is these days.





	1. Of Course there's no Elevator

“So, this is the place?” Will asked as he dropped a box to the floor. “Looks pretty drab.”

The building wasn’t as imposing as the brunette had imagined it would be; the stark stone walls and bleak looking windows of the prospectus had painted it as a student’s worst nightmare, but it was set against almost picturesque greenery (including, but not limited to, trees) and a quad like area out in front. Not too far a walk to the town centre either.

Some would say it looked cosy. Others would say costly. Carmilla would say neither. 

“This is the place, alright. Home sweet home.”

Reaching up to her face she pushed down the set of sunglasses and looked at the building with a fresh set of eyes. She frowned momentarily, looking down at the piece of paper in her hands and readjusted her backpack shoulder strap to fit comfortably. If she calculated right, her apartment/room/hole was the corner window, three floors up. 

Yellow curtains hung there. She cringed. 

“At least you’ll have neighbours this time,” Will chuckled, picking up the box from the floor. “Not just some old guy with a questionable morning routine.” 

Carmilla backhanded his arm and took the lead, walking through the large double doors of the building, remembering at the last minute to hold the doors open for her lumbering brother and the only box of her stuff. 

Travel light. Be ready to go at the last moment. 

All these years later and it still stuck with her. 

No elevator. Of course not. The building was older than Methuselah. She looked over her shoulder at Will and raised an eyebrow. 

“Think you can manage that up the stairs?”

Will scoffed, but took a minute to readjust it in his arms. Carmilla was already up the first flight. There were around three apartments per floor and were numbered as such. On the second floor a bicycle was precariously balanced against the banister rail, a black helmet dangling from the handlebars and a chained lock slung over the seat, not attached to anything. 

Digging around in the side pocket of her backpack, Carmilla brandished the keys from the Student Association and unlocked the door to “303”. It was sticky and needed a good shoulder push before it flew open, banging off a small wooden side table. A potted plant fell to the ground with an echoing crash, smashing into several blue pieces and scattering soil onto the polished hardwood floor. 

“For fuck sake…” Carmilla muttered, throwing her backpack to the floor. 

“How many years bad luck for a pot?” Will deposited the box inside the door and strode in, giving the small amount of rooms the obligatory big brother security check. 

“I think the plant bore the brunt of it,” she replied, picking up the nearly dead houseplant from the soil and shards, holding it at arms length as though it could revolt and attack her at any given moment. 

Her foot found the pedal for the bin in the tiny kitchen and she popped it, recoiling in horror and gagging at the smell that puffed into the air immediately. 

“What the fuck is THAT?” She wretched, stumbling backward and covering her nostrils, forgetting the plant in her hands and covering her perfectly clean white shirt in bone dry soil. 

Pulling his t-shirt over his face, Will stepped cautiously toward the bin and swallowed, peeking over the edge into what was undoubtedly a takeout tray, plastic fork sticking out of the side with a course of green and black mould clawing it’s way around the container. It had to have been there for a while. 

He picked up the bin and held it out, walking out of the door silently. Carmilla heard his footsteps on the stairs. 

“And a big fucking welcome to the building to you too!” It’s going to take days to get rid of that smell.

She chucked the plant into the sink and went back to the pick up the scattered remnants of it’s former home when she caught sight of someone standing in the doorway. Someone with curly red hair and an almost exasperated expression. 

“A big welcome to the building!” the red-headed mimicked, with a pretty wide smile. “You must be Carmilla…” she checked the clipboard in her hands. “Karnstein.”

“And you must be Perry,” she responded. “Someone left dinner from last Christmas in here, sorry if it smells like death.”

Perry wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. One gets used to dealing with some disgraceful behaviour. Hand sanitizer is a must.”

“I can imagine,” Carmilla replied, dusting the soil off her hands and holding one out to Perry, who took it gingerly by her fingers. “I used to live with my brother.”

“And your brother used to live with you, Kitty,” Will’s voice sounded from outside. On cue, Will poked his head around the door frame, now sans t-shirt over his face and smiled a cheesy grin. “Me and Kirsch and going for pizza. You coming?”

“I’ll sit this one out, freakshow,” Carmilla sighed, going to run a hand through her dark hair before remembering what it had been holding. “You and popped collar have fun.”

The head disappeared from the doorway and aside from Perry scrubbing her hand furiously with a dollop of alcohol gel, Carmilla felt oddly at peace with the decision of moving there. The curly haired building rep seemed to be incredibly concerned she’d just passed across some contagious pathogen. She smiled, a perfected smile that broke through all the uncomfort. 

“I need you to sign your building regulation forms, then we’ll go through some safety procedures and I can introduce you to the rest of the residents - ” 

Carmilla held a hand up to stop her ramble and smiled curtly. 

“I’ve just driven cross country. Leave the forms, I’ll sign them later and push them under your door. To be honest, all I want to do is sleep.”

Again, another perfected smile from Curly Sue broke through the uncomfort of the situation and she unclipped the forms from the board, placing them on the side table that once was home to a houseplant. 

“Then I’ll leave these here and you can… when you’re ready. I’m in 101. Lola Perry and Su-” she caught herself. “Lafontaine.”

She went to leave and turned back around quickly. 

“Oh! In case there’s a fire tonight, your nearest fire escape is down the stairs and if there’s a fire on the - ”

Carmilla held her hand up again. The last thing she needed was a lecture in what to do in a building fire before she’d slept in the building. Her stomach gurgled, reminding her food was a necessity to humans and she was very aware of having none since the morning. Pizza sounded like a good idea now. 

“Thanks. It’s errr… good to meet you… if I have any questions I’ll knock.”

“Please do! Enjoy your moving in night.”

With that, she was gone out of the door and heading down the stairs. Carmilla closed the door behind her and started to clear up the pieces of fragmented porcelain.


	2. You're a Moron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first blood is spilt.

Maybe it won’t be so bad here. Not far from Will and Kirsch. It’s far enough from the rest of civilisation...

A loud bang echoed through the room, followed by raised voices in the hallway and Carmilla was pretty sure it shook the wooden panelling of the apartment. She jumped up, a piece of porcelain slicing into her left palm and she cursed, quickly running to the sink to drop the pieces into it. Blood bloomed over her hand. Where was her fucking bin? Had Will left it outside? The lumbering oaf. 

She flung open the front door to see another redhead, this time a lot taller than the previous one, almost flying down the stairs and the sound of the main double doors slamming behind her. Her bin was in the hallway, on it’s side. She sighed and picked it up, turning back to go into her new apartment. 

She stopped mid step.

Crying. Someone was crying. She groaned inwardly. Whoever it was would have heard her coming out of the door, they would know she could hear them crying. She was obligated to see if they were OK. Wasn’t she?

She flung the bin into her apartment, then strode to the adjourning one and wrapped on the door with the hand that wasn’t bleeding. 

“Hey, new neighbour here. You alright?”

The sound of crying lessened to a whimper for a moment, before the voice of a woman came from the other side of the door. 

“Err yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry about the banging.” She sniffed. “Everything’s peachy.”

Carmilla frowned. It didn’t sound like it. She hated girls crying. It had something to do with the red-headed Amazonian that flew down the railings. She hadn’t heard an argument though, but then again she hadn’t exactly been listening for one either. 

A deep sigh echoed through her chest, a spike of pain coming from the hand that was now quite bloody red and the sniffles of the girl on the other side of the door were making the day quite lovely. Don’t get involved, don’t play the hero. She’s not a femme fatale. You’re hand is bleeding.

Her stomach growled. 

“Listen cupcake, I know you’re upset and all, and in all other circumstances I really wouldn’t do this, but I’m starving. Know any good places to eat around here?”

She bit her lip. You’re a moron. 

The sniffling paused briefly and the door opened, the sight of the honey haired girl on the other side trying to contain the tears hitting Carmilla like bullets to the chest. 

She was beautiful. In every sense. 

She wore an open denim shirt, black t-shirt, sniffling, sobbing and most likely in no mood to contend with a new neighbour. She gave a watery smile, one that looked more like she was upset at having been caught in that state, which then turned to concern when she saw the bloody hand Carmilla was doing her best to keep aloft. 

“You’re bleeding!” She squeaked, and reached out for Carmilla’s wrist, pulling it to her face and having a good look. 

“It’s nothing, houseplant committed suicide and the pot’s sharp,” Carmilla responded. “I’ll get a band-”

The girl shook her head and all but dragged her into the apartment, toward the small kitchen that mimicked her own and started to run her hand under the cold tap. Blood started to swirl down the sinkhole and she reached up to the cabinet above their heads for a First Aid box tucked neatly in the corner. 

“Bernard’s dead then,” the would-be Doctor stated matter of factly. 

Bernard? Previous resident of the apartment?

The quizzical look on her face made the girl laugh, which set off a few nerve endings in the darker haired one. Her hand was getting cold and the blood had almost stopped. She reached out for the tap and turned it off, taking out a bandage from the box and started to wrap it around the wounded palm. 

“Bernard is the house plant,” she explained, touching Carmilla’s hand exceedingly gently, it was quite heavenly. “LaFontaine’s first attempt at keeping something other than themself alive. I’m surprised he’s lived this long.”

She tucked the bandage together so it would hold firm and brushed her thumb over the back of Carmilla’s hand. 

“That should hold up, don’t shower with it on though.”

Carmilla smiled gratefully, flexing her hand a bit. She should get a First Aid box. She’d probably need one sooner or later, especially if she intended on buying any flat pack furniture. Screams and bangs would be coming from next door soon enough. 

“I’m Laura,” she said, holding her hand out. “Laura Hollis.”

“Carmilla Karnstein,” the darker haired one replied, taking the offered hand with the unbandaged left. 

They looked at one another for a moment, both smiling, as if trying to remember their lives outside of that moment and finding it very hard to do so. As if on cue, Carmilla’s stomach sounded, long and gurgling, leaving no room for interpretation. Laura laughed, the sound bringing Carmilla’s smile to life. 

“I guess we should find you some food then, before you eat me,” Laura responded, poking Carmilla’s stomach, with a casual familiarity she wasn’t aware they had. 

But she really didn’t mind. 

She didn’t even make an innuendo joke.


	3. What a Pity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla and Laura go for dinner to satisfy the hunger demon inside Carmilla's stomach. They talk and bond.

Lunch was a mix of sweet potato fries and the most delicious vegetarian bean burger Carmilla had ever eaten. It was a food of the Gods. The type of food she had been dreaming of living in her brother’s small town retreat. She had a mouth full of beetroot as Laura started to apologise for what had occurred in their building before the brunette had imposed herself on the honey-haired girl’s front door. 

“I don’t usually start crying in front of my neighbours, at least not on the first visit.” Laura had since calmed down, after many watery smiles and considerable reassurances from Carmilla that she wasn’t getting annoyed. 

Carmilla shrugged, holding up her bandaged hand. “Don’t worry about it, to be honest, I thought someone had slammed your hand in the door.”

Laura laughed lightly, picking at the remnants of her own meatless burger before sitting back in her chair. “No, she would have come running back if that was the case. I think she just wanted to get out quick.”

“Could have fooled me. All I saw was hair. And shoulders,” Carmilla said around another wedge of heavenly beetroot.

Laura nodded, smile still on her lips. “Yes, Danny does have both of those, though a good foot higher up in the air than mine… and yours the .”

Carmilla cocked an eyebrow. “Not all of us are as short as you, cupcake.”

There wasn’t much in it, though, even Carmilla would concede on that point. No, she was not a tall woman. Being the short one meant she was quicker, more agile, able to get a swift body shot to the kidneys in times of crisis. She had learned that trick quickly. Don’t let them get the drop on you. Always be prepared to run. 

She nudged her fries with her little finger in the direction of the honey-haired girl across the table. Laura had already inhaled her own, and Carmilla was worried she’d taken the forks too. This was just what she needed - a break from the reality of her boredom, of her confinement, of her mind. Living with her brother in a small town had made it nigh on impossible to move without someone knowing what you were doing. For the most part, Carmilla hadn’t cared what the neighbours thought, but then there were so few neighbours to begin with. 

“Where are you from?” Laura asked, her head slightly tilted to the side, patiently awaiting an answer from behind her large glass. 

“Here and there,” Carmilla said, finishing the last of her burger and dusting her hands off. “Far too many places to recount.”

“Army brat?” Laura said, and Carmilla wondered if it would have been easier to agree, to lie and embellish a life of fascinating travel at the behest of an indentured parent under the ruling government. 

Instead, she shook her head. “Nope. Mother dearest becomes bored rather easily. We were uprooted whenever she could take the opportunity.”

Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Her mother did tire of their homes, mainly the men she took up residence with, and would on occasion decide moving around to either another man or another town would be the best thing for her young family. It had left Carmilla and Will on their own a lot, forging a friendship together instead of battling like brother and sister should, always having to fend for themselves. It was no wonder Will had left as soon as he reached the right age, and taken his younger sister along with him. 

“We? Have you got any siblings? I bet you’ve got a sister, you seem like the type,” Laura said, quite proud of her prediction born from too many late evenings watching psychology drama shows. 

“I have two,” Carmilla said, leaning back in the chair and hooking her elbow over the back of it. “An older brother, and a much older half-sister. Do you want a cookie for figuring it out?”

Laura narrowed her eyes and shook her head, dismissing the comment from the brunette. Carmilla only exhaled a slight laugh. Not many people took her ribbing for what it was. She didn’t like to be nice all the time, it just wasn’t in her nature. If someone couldn’t take it, they either let her know, or like most, they would just avoid her in future. Life was too short to play the good girl with everyone.

“It would depend on the cookie,” Laura retorted, folding her arms and leaning on the edge of the table. “I’ve got you all figured out, Little Miss DarkAndBrooding. Leather jacket, black boots, black pants, white shirt… you’re a Vampire, right? Come to prey on a university for the slim pickings.”

Carmilla laughed. “Ah, not quite. I’m finishing my Masters and this place seemed nice. Not too far from my brother’s town, not too populated to be partyville. Somewhere in the middle. Besides, don’t Vampires live in old castles and only come out at night?”

Laura shrugged her shoulders and sat back in her chair. “Some do. It would depend on the Vampire. There’s different clans, different species; I mean, look at Buffy compared to I Am Legend. Nothing but discrepancies there.”

“You watch far too much TV,” Carmilla replied, reaching across the table and taking Laura’s drink, sucking at it through the straw. “What does Danny think about your love of the undead?”

“She thinks I’m a little crazy,” Laura rolled her eyes. “But, who’s girlfriend doesn’t? She’s got her obsessions, I’ve got mine.”

That seemed fair enough. Carmilla reasoned that the Amazonian probably had an unnatural love for archery and giraffes. Laura tucked her hair behind her ear, then unsatisfied with that, she ran her hand through it from her forehead to the back. The effect was a barrage of dark golden hair. Carmilla swallowed the drink in her mouth and felt it slip down the wrong tube in her throat. She wretched immediately, coughing to dislodged the fluid trying to drown her.

“Cough it up champ,” Laura chuckled, reaching back over the table to retrieve her drink. “I’ll find you a life raft.”

Carmilla scowled as she coughed, which completely broke the effect it was supposed to have on her dinner partner and instead made her look as though she were trying to set the napkins on fire with nonexistent laser vision. 

“At least I know you’re not a vampire now,” Laura said, sucking on the straw. “Vampires are way cooler than that.”

The brunette couldn’t help but laugh though choking and once it had calmed down, she took a few deep breaths to relax her chest. She enjoyed the company. It had been a long time since she had sat down for more than a quick drink with another female, and the conversation had always been sparse. 

“Vampires don’t exist,” Carmilla replied. “And if they did, they wouldn’t be seen dead drinking orange soda. Red “wine” all the way.” She made the air quotes with her fingers. “Anyway, less about me and the alternatively living. Is there just you in the Hollis Household or do you have any less annoying sisters?”

Laura shook her head, her hands kissing the air. “Nope, it’s just me and my dad. He’s extra about everything. There’s a can of Bear Spray somewhere in our kitchen cupboard, just in case.”

“Must be nice,” Carmilla said, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. She couldn’t remember her father. He had died when she was very young and thankfully, Laura had the sense not to ask about it when she had mentioned only her mother. She extended the same courtesy to her. “He sounds like a good dad.”

“He is,” Laura nodded, smiling at a memory that came and went. “He’s the best. He loves Danny. Every holiday is just about sports. If they could find a way to fit sports into everything they did, life would be super.”

“You don’t seem the sporting type,” Carmilla replied, just for observations. Laura didn’t move like an athlete, or like someone who played any kind of regular sport other than Extreme Binge Watching. Carmilla loved a girl who loved to do nothing. Sometimes kicking the feet up and settling down was the best part about life. 

“I did in school, but I’m more about writing,” Laura said, finishing the remnants of now cold fries and placing the bowl on top of three stacked plates. “I’m doing my journalism Masters and then… well, that part I haven’t quite figured out just yet.”

“I’m sure you will,” Carmilla said, with a nod. “I can see it now - Breaking news all over the world, super scoop with Lauronica Mars…”

Carmilla held her hands up as a flying napkin came her way and grinned at the smile on Laura’s face; a smile she had been the source of. The girl was inquisitive, she was assuming, she would one day make a great journalist if she could keep herself from emotional involvement. 

“Don’t take the Lady’s name in vain,” Laura retorted, then glanced at her watch. “Shoot! Danny’s going to be coming back from practice soon. I’ll have to head back.”

“What a pity,” Carmilla sighed, then smiled. “Come on then. Let’s get you home before Xena comes hunting for you.”


End file.
